^PS 3515 
J.U24 V4 
J 1903 
Copy 1 



1 

3 



THE VICTIM." 




JOHN HUEBSCHMANN. 



A Dramatic Monologue for a Man. 

BY .IOHN HUEBSCHMANN. 

[Copyrighted.] 
PRICK, 25 CENTS. 



THE VICTIM." 




JOHN HUEBSCHMANN. 



A Dramatic Monologue for a Man. 

BY JOHN HUEBSCHMANN. 

[Copyrighted.] 
PRICE, - - - - 25 C E NTS. 



THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 

Two Copies Received 

JUN 29 1903 

% Copyright Entry 

fou^r^ lotos 

class £5 xxc. No 
3 <ST JT 5 

COPY B. 






\X^ 






Scene, Time and Place, Make-Up and Costume. 



Scene— A plainly furnished room, with several chairs and 
a table. On table are seen, scattered about, a number of 
books, among them also a bible. 



Time and Place — Plays about 1900, near Chicago. 



Make-Up — The Victim is a man of about 42 years of age, 
gray hair, somewhat wrinkled face. 



Costume — A plain everyday suit. 



"THE VICTIM" 

A Dramatic Monologue for a Man. 

[Copyrighted.] 

By JOHN HUBBSCHMANN. 

Tis true, — when I do think it o'er, — 
My early youth was as^he,clawn of glorious day; 
While manhood, not being manliness, 
Is shrouded by the dark robe of sin and vice. 
And now, at evening-time of life, when parting 
From this world, — I've not deserved it, — 
Once more through sable clouds break 
The quiet rays of happiness serene. 

Yet a boy, quite free from care, 
In listless ramble down the widening avenue, 
I'd enter on a paradise. The garden 
Of my native city, Lincoln Park. 
There, clown on the sandy shores 
Of the azure lake, would I sit and watch 
And wait, though I knew not for what. 
Ever and anon would the froth-fringed breakers 
Cast a fish of silvery scales in cruel 
Play from its deep-sea home on the sand 
Of the shore, where it must writhe and turn 
And wriggle until it found its element again. 
While watching thus, I'd often wish myself 
To. be a fish, with shiny fins to cut the waters. 
In boyish manner, bidding the waves 
Farewell, I'd turn to seek still greater novelties; 
And following the dictates of my nature, — 
Soon in nature's temples, under palm trees 
And giant ferns, in perfume rich 
And lavishly spent, — 
I'd dream with the flowers. 

Yet, most of all did I enjoy to view 
The various cages, the which contained 



— 4 — 

The fiery tigers and the roaring lions. 
Then I could stand and watch and pity 
The beautiful but prisoned creature, 
Captive of man, though free by nature. 

Thus, often would I spend my leisure day. 
Then, tired by my wonder-seeing play, 
I'd turn about for home. 

My home! My boyhood home! 
Oh ! When I do think on it, my heart 
Doth swell. . My boyhood home, as sweet 
To me, as home could be. 
My mother loved, as she alone can 
Love an only child. My father looked 
With pride upon his only son. 
Who e'er was loved, if I was not? 
Had I not liberty, was I not free? 
Ah, life was a life of love for me. 

To Sunday-school with pious heart 
And lips of prayer would I depart. 
And there, by chance or fate, whiche'er you please 
I met a girl, by some years younger 
Than myself, whom often then in boyish 
Way, I wished to be my sister. 

Good friendship 'tween us soon ensued, 
And from then on, to Sunday-school 
We would as chums together. 
On afternoon I would again, 
Now, not alone, but hand in hand 
With little Pearl, — her pretty name, — 
Stroll in my paradise. 
As merry as two birds in spring 
We'd flit about the park ; 
To lake, to pond, from house 
To house and everywhere, where gaiety 
Would merriment, where beauty would surprise 
Call forth in children eyes, 



— 5 — 

Who never see but what is bright 
Pure, sweet and good and right. 
Thus passed we time in gleeful sport. 
Till sun-set rays would beckon, that 
Home we go, and tell to mother dear 
The happiness of children's love. 
Then tired, at the bedside kneeling 
To pray with mother at my hand, 
I'd speak in faith to God and angels. 
Quiet on my pillow lying, with 
Angels all about my bed, sweet 
Dreams would soon enwrap me. — 

Thus passing as the sunny rays 

Flitted by my childhood days. 

Time wore on. The bud of friendship 
Burst too soon into the rose of pure 
And fragrant, holy love. 

We both loved God as father 
And as our benefactor, who thus 
Had cast our lives together and 
Now did pour his grace upon us. 
As such we knew each other perfect. 

One eve I'll ne'er forget, and 
Should I live an hundred years. 
'Twas May; — when on return 
From Samuels, a servant of the Word, 
From whose divine and holy lips we heard 
The Gospel, — when we did set the wedding day. 

My darling Pearl, pure as a lily 
With heart as true as truest heart, 
Vowed then and there she'd e'er be true to me. 
Her dimpled arms about my neck, 
Her loving eyes fixed on my own. 
Oh, when I think of that embrace, 
And of my vow, that answered to her love ! 
"By yonder starry sky," I swore, 



"Pearl, thou, my own true love, 

Thou star, which lights my heaven 

As yonder star makes bright its sphere 

My life; I love thee as nobody else can love. 

Thy life is mine. Thy sorrow and 

Discomfort is my greatest pain. 

Thy happiness makes mine complete. — 

We both were blessed by God above, but I 

Methinks the more, that I may call 

Thee mine, and love, Pearl, not sentiment 

Shall hold us two together. 

No cause but death with strong 

And icy hand shall sever thee from me." — 

Soon then in that merry month of May 
In holy ties of wedlock we were bound. 
Our home was bright, we lived in love 
To God and to each other. 
And when our happiness rose to its pinnacle, 
'Twas when God blessed us with a child. 
Then evenings were a pleasure, 
When home I came, though tired by 
The daily work, the calling of my little 
Pearl would fan the love paternal ; 
And in my arms I'd rock and swing her, 
Tramping up and down the floor, 
And calling her by cosy names 
Would change her tears to sunny smiles. 
While Pearl, my wife, would place the meal 
For mother, child and father. 
In happy union and with praise 
And thanks we'd spice the meal so frugal. 

Such was my second home. 

Could joy and happiness e'er leave us? 

Too much it was. It could not last, 
When jealous Satan sought to blight it. 



— 7 — 

Oh, God ! When I do think it o'er, 
How weak is human being, 
And very yielding toward the vile. 
Enticed by men, who loved strong drink, 
I soon became a prey to that dark demon ; 
And soon did linger in the drinkshops, 
Which lay along my homeward way, 
And then forgot my anxious, waiting love, 
My wife, and child at home alone. 

Oh, Alcohol ! Most damned curse, 
Destroyer of both form and soul, 
Oh, hated drink, thou tyrant o'er your slave, 
Thou devil lurking in the liquid. 
Too well do I remember how the crave 
For drink would overcome me. 
And when my wife's most kind entreating 
Would touch my hardening heart, 
Then would I grapple with my foe. 
But strong, too strong already was his power 
And fast the demon held me in his grasp. 

One night I now recall, — 'tis queer 
How true the memory is in bad things, 
While good is oft forgotten, — that 
Thirst did come o'er me, 
And torture me most horribly. 

Oh, drink, most luring evil, curse 
Of the world, I would not have thee 
Master of myself. Most cursed 
Poison go hence and leave me 
For Pearl's, my child's and my own sake. 
Thus would I plead and parley 
But to no avail. For, no, I could not stay, 
'Twould torture me, if I would stay, 
To death, I would believe; then would 
I yield, — and go. — 



Oh, hellish drink, most cursed, 
Most hated, yet more loved. Oh, come 
And quench my thirst, 
Though my soul thou tak'st for pay. 
I can no longer stay, lest I grow mad. 
I must have drink, I must, I must. 
I'll have it. 

Oh, come to me, mixed in one cup, 
Oh, come in one, both heaven and hell. 
I will have drink, I must have drink. 
That night I knew naught of myself. 

The next, when home from work 
I came, Pearl, my babe came not to meet 
Me, as she for years from habit always did. 
And I did long so much to press 
Her to my heart that day, the first 
Time after deathly sickness 
Of scarlet-fever, was she to leave her bed. 
And yet in vain was all my expectation. 
Thus sorely tried, I entered on her room in dread 
And called in anticipation of a sweet reply. 
And thought, that she would run with * 
Hasty step and outstretched hands and joyful cry 
Into' my arms, there to receive a loving father's 
Warm embrace and kiss. 

I spoke in hushed voice and accents 
Low and kind. My words are in my ears 
Tonight; but harshly ring the words of Pearlie's 
Cold, reproachful answer, which then 
Did make my blood run chilled. 

"Come, come my child, will thou 
Not come to father's loving arms ? — 
— Stay, child, and list what father 
Has to tell thee." — 

Oh, God ! Oh, gracious Father, torture 



Me not thus. My child, my darling, 
Angel, saint, who learned of my 
Ferocious state of yesternight, does, 
Fearing me, now shrink from me. 
The saddest hour of my poor, wicked 
Life, was that indeed, when Pearl, 
My sweetest girl, the life I loved next 
To my wife, did shrink from me; > 
Who, nothing but a wreck in body, — 
Yes, sold to drink, to hated drink, although 
A slave, however still loved wife and child 
As ever husband, father could. 

Home was not home for me at 
Such a time. — Drink, thou damned 
Destroyer of that happy home, yes, Til 
Serve thee, thy slave I'll be. — 
I went away that night, away 
And never to ^return; for from then on 
I steadily went onward, down, — down. — 

I traveled on the road which leads 
Away from heaven right on to hell. 
I took to drinking more and more. < 
I made the whisky-shop my home, 
And scarcely more than twice in twenty 
Days did reason clearly see. 
Thus would I steep myself in liquor. 

Among the small jobs I would undertake 
To earn some means, which I could 
Squander then in drink, was selling news. 
One afternoon I had in store for 
Hungry public a sensation, and 
Sold my papers by the hundreds. 

It was the blood- writ story of a wreck 
In railroad-life in northern Maine. 

I took but little interest in the fact,. 
But wanting. of an object for a thought, 



— 10 — 

I kept my papers' last, went home, — 
To the saloon, my home, — where I could 
Satisfy my thirst, and there I sat 
To gloat with bleared eyes, o'er 
My paper's awful news. 

In letters bold was told the awful 
Story of the wreck and passing over 
All the detail, suddenly the line : 
"A Woman Died From Grief" 
Seemed like a fiery dart, 
To pierce my eyes and brain and heart ; 
For there her name, my wife's own name,- 
Pearl's name — and she — dead! 
Poverty-stricken, failing in health, 
Left by her husband, full 
Fourteen years ago, remaining true 
To him, she died with broken heart. — 

Fourteen years. Have I lived so long 
Without thee, whom I swore I could 
Not leave? Did I love her still? 
And she now dead ! 
My wife now dead! Oh, would 
That I had stayed. The thought, 
It doth torment me much. 
Oh, wretch, most horrid wretch 
Am I, destroyer of my happy home, 
Myself and soul and now, — 
The murderer of my wife! — 
Why end I not my wretched life? 

Oh, wicked drunkard, whose life 
Counts only days, whose body 
Deadly venom doth quite saturate 
And heart is in most troubled state. 
Here is the quieting knife, to quickly 
End the wretched life, despatch the soul, 



The soul immortal down, to hell. 

Come, enter, pierce this villain's heart. — 

But, stay — what tells me not to kill ? 

Who holds my hand aloof? 

Stay, blood-stained hand and glittering steel. 

Drink, waiter, quickly come and 

Bring me drink— the drink was brought 

And I, as many drunkards do 

Drank with the intent to kill my 

Sorrow and my care. — 

Then did appear to me in my 
Delirious state scenes most horrible. 

Methought I saw a train 
Come speeding on with might and main 
And crushing me to atoms. 
My wife I saw, in heaven, redeemed 
From cares of earth; again her spirit seems 
To haunt my wicked soul, 

And there the fiery demon, with outstretched hand, 
And devilish laughter did now command 
Me down to gloomy dungeon. 
Oh thought most horrible, — most horrible. — ■ 

What next took place, I know not 
By myself, but merely by report. 

And thus the story runs : 

A young but earnest pastor 
Was called on to officiate in duties 
Calling at the bedside of a child. 

He went and picking right 
His way in gloomy darkness of the night, 
Along the steely track, 
He stumbled suddenly across 
A human form, which lay outstretched 
Upon the way as though 'twere lifeless. 
He halted.— ' 



— 12 — 

But suddenly there thunders through gloomy space 
On toward him the night express. — 

'Tis on him. — Only hundred rods, 
And racing like a fiery demon. — 

In fearful haste he drags 
The form from certain death 
In awful shape. — He holds his breath 
As past them flies the train of gloomy coaches. 
Fright, — shudder, — fear. — 
Like aspen leaf is shaken the zephyr. 
He stands in silent prayer. — 

But at his feet the dusky form 
Lies motionless, and as he stoops 
To scan the upturned face, the pastor 
Turns aback from the offensive odor of the liquor. 

But calling to his aid from 
Neighboring house three stalwart men 
He summons them 
In haste to bear the man 
Even to his own dear home. To tell his 
Wife that he had ordered this. 

Returning from the death-bed scene, 
The pastor joined his wife 
In caring for this wicked life. 

But speak to him, the pastor 
Might evoke from silent stone 
An answer sooner than from him. — 

All this was after told to me; 

And I, this man, was in so wretched plight. 
When morning came I was 
Myself again, and that in such 
A place. — What does it mean? 

Then opened wide the door, and 
In my room there entered hand 



In hand, as man and wife, 

The rescuers of my wretched life. — 

What does it mean? 
Who is the man, and who is she, 
Who stands so proudly at his side ? 
What is't; am I in drunken state? 
What interest have my eyes 
And brain that thus belies me? 
Methinks my wife I see, 

My beauteous Pearl of eighteen years when she 
Became my wife. — 

Oh, God, what does it mean 
Such thoughts, this scene 
And imagination raging in torment everlasting 
Oh, Pearl, forsaken wife of mine, 
Or what it is I see, 
If thou art ghost of my dead love, 
Then speak to me, condemn me, 
If thou canst say no more 
For that is all that I implore. 

Speak to me, speak. — 

Oh, heaven, — this is real; 

For see, it moves. 

Oh, God, what will it say? — 

And this was my awakening. — 

The two then stepped to me 
And did impart, how I was found 
In danger of my -life, that they were bound 
By duty thus to save me. 

My deliverer then spoke to me 
In earnest words : "And see," 
He said, "As I am pastor, shepherd of the flock, 
My duty is to save the soul 
Of each and every erring one. 
And finding thee in drunken state, 



— 14 — 

I hoped, I knew, 'twas not too late 

With Christ's dear aid 

To turn the strayed 

On better path, on toward the fold." 

I heard but heeded not his words, 
For there stood she, the picture of my bride, 
The pastor soon did note my curiosity, 
How fixed my stare, 
Was on her there, 

And did make known to me her person, 
As Pearl, his darling wife, who oft had 
Told him of her home, 
And how her father, fourteen years ago 
Had left his wife and child, to roam 
In search of sensual joy, which he did love. 
In drink to seek and drunkenness, 
And nevermore was heard of. 

And now did she speak straight 
To my heart, that I should do all that 

I could, to save 
Mankind and self from drunkards' dark eternal grave. 
She spoke to me in such a way 
Since she well knew the powerful sway 
Of alcohol in drinkers' home. 

But even as she spoke, I knew 
My Pearl, my child was here before me. — 
I fell upon my knees, confessed my 
Sin, my name and begged forgiveness 
Of my child and of my God. 

And not in vain. — 
She thanked her God that he had spared 
My soul from everlasting hell. 
And now did ask of Him, who cared 
For high and low alike, that he would change my 
course. 



— 15 — 

She put her dimpled hands in mine, 

And Lily, she, she kissed my drunkard's brow 

'Twas she, who spoke in words consoling: 

"Dear mother now is gone, gone to the land of light, 

And we do after earthly flight 

Hope, too, to harbor there. 

Now, wilt thou not come and join us in our way? 

Say, not, dear father, that thou canst not, 

For, yes, thou canst, although 

The power is not here below 

In poor, weak self to find, 

But by the blessed help of our Lord so kind. 

So be from now no more a slave 

But live a better life. 

And now together let us pray, dear husband." — 

Then did we three in prayer kneel 

There did I supplication's power feel. 

And even though I longed for drink 
While standing as on abyss's brink, 
I could step back and did then turn 
My love to hatred, for the drink I spurn 
With anchored heart now from me. 
And then and there — seems strange to me — 
Not by my own poor will, but by some 
Stronger power driven, I vowed, I nevermore would 
drink. — 

Oh blessed Jesus, since that great change, although 
My body is well nigh wasted, I am myself. 
And conscious self, let me be Thine. 

Oh, friendly Jesus, how carest Thou for fallen 
Wretqh, that Thou didst save from drunkard's grave 
This lowly sinner, Thy children's worst, 
Who now lives happy in his daughter's love. 

Why killed I not myself that night, 
With ready, wicked knife did take my life? 
Why didst-Thou stay the train, till I was saved 



JUN 29 1903 



— 16- 



By stranger's hand? 

Oh Lord, Thy ways are wondrous strange. 
Thy holy will could not permit 
The death of sinner yet unfit. 
My soul to save and set for others as example 
Didst Thou Thy grace reveal so amply. — 
Dear Lord, if ever man was due 
Great thanks to Thee, that man am truly I. — 

But, oh, what pain is this I feel? 
Alas, why question I yet long? 'Tis true, 
Physician's sentence did pronounce my end. 

Oh, is this death ? — My heart, 'tis failing ! — 
Sweet rest — it dare not come but pain. — 
Hold, am or am I not insane? 
Could I but live life o'er again, oh, Saviour, 
Then would every hour and day be wrought 
The recompense that Thou hast bought 
Me free, the demon's prey. 

Oh, Christ, 'twas horrible to live a drunkard's life, 
But sweet it is to know my sins forgiven. 
My eyes grow dim, — they've lost their sight 
But see, — behold, the shining light ! — 

Oh, Pearl, my wife, methinks in spirit's 
Form I see thee. Thy angel spirit doth lead 
Me on to heaven. 
I come, — I come. — 

{Reels over, dies exhausted.) 
While body dies, my soul redeemed shall rise 
To meet Thee with our God beyond the skies. 
Curtain. 



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